


Scorch Mark

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blast Off got seriously injured, and Vortex visits him in medbay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorch Mark

**Title:** Scorch Mark  
 **Warnings:** h/c, fluff  
 **Continuity:** G1 (part of [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1))  
 **Characters/Pairing:** Vortex, Blast Off  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
 **Summary:** Blast Off got seriously injured, and Vortex visits him in medbay.  
 **Beta:** [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty) :D

 **Note:** Written for the tf_speedwriting community @ LJ  & the prompt: Task - Romance in an unexpected situation.  
This is probably as much caring as Vortex ever gets. Yay!

 

 **Scorch Mark**

As quietly as possible, Vortex snuck into medbay. It was deserted;the Constructicons were wherever they were when they didn’t have to be there, and all the other Decepticons were undamaged, at least to the point where they didn’t have to stay in the infirmary.

Every Decepticon except one.

Vortex took a chair, turned it around, and sat down, his arms crossed on its back.

He frowned; he didn’t like what he saw.

Blast Off lay on the berth, silently, apparently in recharge, or still in stasis, Vortex couldn’t tell. Indeed, he didn’t know much at all, only what Onslaught had told them, and that didn’t make much sense to him. He had no idea that “complications during re-entry” would mean Blast Off lying unconscious on the berth, his chest plate open, connected to some devices. There weren’t any dents, only black streaks which clearly weren’t paint.

A few other plates were missing, too. Such as the wings - Vortex scowled - and the heat shields on the shuttle’s arms.

Vortex _really_ didn’t like what he was seeing.

“How did you get in here?” The shuttle’s voice was stressed, with an underlying static; Vortex winced. He hadn’t expected Blast Off to be awake, but it was actually a pleasant surprise.

He grinned. “I used the door.”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing? Just checking on an injured team mate.”

A huff, then an engine revving, and which didn’t sound healthy at all. “Of course… you’re not known for your bedside manner. More for what happens before.”

Vortex’ grin broadened. “Well, I’m always good for a surprise, right.” Then his voice lost its former cheerfulness. “Ons said you almost died…”

A twitch from the damaged body which probably should have been a shrug, but Blast Off didn’t reply.

With an inaudible sigh, Vortex rested his chin on his arm while he reached with the other to the shuttle’s hip. There was a single grimy streak, and he tried to wipe it off.

Vortex couldn’t clean it, though, and only caused Blast Off to wince again.

Both kept quiet.

Behind his visor, Vortex’ optic roved over the plating of his team mate, and the only really clean part was brass-coloured circuitry on his lower arm which was usually covered with the heat shield.

Vortex was too curious to ignore it, and so his finger poked the circuitry lightly.

“Ouch!” Blast Off hissed. He jerked his hand back, the fingers twitching. Taken aback, Vortex withdrew.

“Don’t do that!” The shuttle snapped, but his tone lacked its usual sharp edge. It sounded rather tired and worn out, and Vortex decided that he didn’t like it as much as he disliked the view of the broken body.

“Sorry…” he muttered, and heard the other venting deeply.

“There’s a reason this usually isn’t exposed…”

Vortex lips tugged to a small grin at the explanation, which seemed to mean that these are pretty sensitive parts - interesting. He leant slightly forward, and cautiously blew over them.

The fingers twitched once more, and this time, the shuttle shuddered.

“Don’t do that either.” It was only a murmur.

“Hehe…” Laughing quietly, Vortex repeated his action, gaining a soft sigh from Blast Off.

Then the arm raised as though Blast Off would move it away, but after an inch it slackened down again.

“I said don’t do that…” It was once more spoken with this tired voice. “I’m really not in the mood, okay.”

Vortex bit his lip. For once, he wasn’t there because of _that_ , but he had no chance to clarify it when the shuttle continued.

“Not when everything hurts like that…”

It was then, that Vortex truly began to detest the exhausted tone.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked, because, yeah, that was what caring team mates did, right?

Another huff. “Ever jumped in a volcano? That’s what I feel like…” A short pause, then Blast Off carried on, deadpan. “You would probably like it.”

“Hehe… yeah, probably…” Vortex responded with a faked grin and amused tone, which even for him didn’t sound real. He chose to remain silent, and Blast Off also didn’t say anything more.

Vortex’ intakes vented another sigh. His hand returned to the black streak on Blast Off’s hip, carefully scratching over it.

It didn’t come off.


End file.
